Different Definitions of Human
by Black Silken Rose
Summary: Underhandedness isn't within Kuwabara's nature, but with Kurama refusing to show his face at Yusuke's wedding, he's running out of options. Painful and exploitative as it is, Kuwabara enlists the aid of the one person he's sworn not to involve. After all, asking for help isn't half as horrible as what Kurama's put him through. Kurama x Hiei (and unrequited Kurama x Yusuke)
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! I'm back for a short time with my entry into the Yu Yu Hakusho Big Bang! That's right: this year I put together this huge fan event where authors and artists did anonymous collaborations, and even wrote my own fic!

The art for this fic was done by galen-kun on tumblr, and it's absolutely gorgeous! PLEASE go check it out: I can't tell you how thrilled I am with what they came up with! Then, go check out everything from the Big Bang, tagged yyhbb on tumblr!

Without further ado: I do not own YYH. Also, Warnings include: angst to fluff, some gray dubcon (rated T), and Kurama being an ass.

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"What I'm saying, Urameshi, is he's not coming!" The room went deathly silent, the clinking of china and background laughter coming to a premature halt. Even Keiko - who thought herself immune to the sudden changes in volume and excitement due to the company she often kept - jumped, dropping her tea spoon to the carpeted flood with a dull thud. Yusuke could feel a fist forming purely out of reflex; a fight was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"I just don't get it."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you!" Kuwabara lowered his voice once the stares began to set in, not having meant to reply as spiritedly as he did. He shifted from foot to foot, waving his hand as Keiko offered him the empty chair at their small, round table. "There's no way around it. This last time he wouldn't even see me: I had to ambush him on his way to his mom's. He says he's busy."

"He's always busy."

"Like I don't know that!" A server had started over to the table with a nervous gait, but Keiko was shaking her head that it was alright. Kuwabara only seemed more distressed with her approach; he knew he was making a scene, but didn't let it stop him. "I've tried just about everything."

Yusuke scowled: the same look that he'd often taken with Koenma when he thought he was being kept out of the loop. Those days had long passed, and Kuwabara found himself disturbed with the way it sent a chill down his back. He'd not seen Yusuke this bothered - seriously bothered, as opposed to his usual childish whimsy - in years.

"I don't see why you can't just ask-"

Kuwabara's face went from agitated to severe, a hardness setting in that quieted the former spirit detective. Again, Keiko was left to calm those on their periphery.

"You know damn well why."

There was a moment of tense silence, one in which the two men stared each other down while the rest of the world worked on regaining its natural equilibrium. Kuwabara could feel the other thinking, a skill that he'd acquired after years of having its absence serve as his talent, and gave him the time. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to say on the subject. He wasn't going to come, and nothing in the three worlds was going to make him. Nothing, and not anyone.

"I don't know anything," Yusuke settled on, slouching back into his chair in a posture that reminded the two of his delinquent middle school days. His positioning had been something that mortified Keiko as they'd gotten older, and as he caught on to her discomfort he'd made efforts to curb the habit. It was more difficult when he found himself in an upsetting circumstance, it seemed. "And that's the problem. I'm really worried about him. You've been saying that something's been up for ages, but I'm starting to really see that now. I mean, what kind of friend…" He stopped, dark shadows covering his eyes.

"Well, you're not being very friendly yourself, asking me to do this," Kuwabara said, his voice clipped. "It's just not right." Yusuke was looking out the window, his jaw set in an uncomfortable manner that could only mean he was grinding his teeth.

"Fine. I'm not asking you anything." He didn't look back up at the other, his gaze set on something beyond the other's lines of sight. "Thanks for telling me. I'll see you at the tailor's, 'kay?"

Keiko was muttering some sort of apology, but Kuwabara was deaf to the words, squeezing her hand reassuringly and saying something that his brain didn't register about how she shouldn't worry before wandering back through the maze of tables to the shop's entrance. With enough presence of mind to apologize to the nearest waitress for causing a commotion, Kuwabara departed, his shoulders heavier than they had been bringing the news through those doors to begin with.

"Yusuke?" Keiko's soft voice paired with the feeling of her hand closing over his broke through the thick wall that the former detective had put up between him and his surroundings. "This doesn't change us, Yusuke." With the hand that wasn't tangled in his, Keiko lifted a forkful of chocolate cake with a delicate raspberry mousse to his lips, which he opened on instinct. "Eat this; it'll make you feel better."

The fork slid away and he swallowed, his elbow braced against the table as his head drooped into his hand. Keiko's thumb rubbed his fingers gently, the feeling counteracting the denial that he'd

been fighting to maintain until the day actually came.

"I'm sorry, Keiko," Yusuke said, placing the fork against his napkin so delicate in appearance that he'd been too afraid to touch it before. "This one doesn't taste like anything, right now."

scene cut

The institutionalization of widespread caller id was a change that, up until now, Kurama had taken for granted. In the last few weeks, he'd learned just how necessary it was when avoidance by human means was needed, but that did not stop him from unplugging his landline and telling anyone of importance to forward their calls to his mobile. Conveniently, blocking calls had also become a development in the mobile technology industry, and with a quick note to his service provider Kurama was free of the nuisance that was Kazuma Kuwabara.

That is, if he didn't insist upon waiting for him at his mother's home when he was expected for weekly dinners.

There was some part of him - a part deep down, that he'd grown accustomed to ignoring as of late - that felt guilt over cutting the other man out of his life; they had been, after all, the closest pair out of the remaining Tantei. In those final years, back in the days when everyone still spoke to each other and things were only different in the appearances they kept up, Kuwabara had become an invaluable part of his human life. The human child within him had lived vicariously through Kuwabara, being the only one of them with the opportunity to attend university, while the halfling that was his default state was always happy to take on responsibilities as helper to the newest spirit detective. With the most in common in regards to their lifestyles and their shared Tantei history, it was only natural that they'd grown close while the rest of the world had developed

independently.

The past eighteen months, though, had solidified the changes that Kurama knew would come: Kuwabara was stepping down as spirit detective now that other things had taken priority in his life. The gleeful romps through memory lane were fewer and far between than ever before. Koenma had released him of any and all Reikai duties long ago, and had not called on him since.

Yusuke was getting married.

Like all of the other things, Kurama had known it was coming. He'd had a pretty good idea of it since he'd met the boy all those years ago, had been told definitively after meeting him again during their journeys in Makai, but it was that one piece of delicate paper that had been the confirmation he'd needed. In black ink, a date had been set. Not that he cared.

Even denial wouldn't stick through saltwater tears.

Loving Yusuke had not come as a surprise to the kitsune; one day, simply, he'd put a name to the emotion he'd been incubating since their first meeting. Intrigue was far too light a word for what he'd taken with the boy; many others had intrigued Kurama, but few had worked their way as seamlessly into his life as Yusuke. Fewer had known his origins and still took his words at face value. None did so without risking themselves. None, except Yusuke.

The aspect of risk was one that Kurama was left to define; it was, after all, his call on whether or not the person in question would be of use to him. Kuwabara had been a case of timing - he'd not been ready for Kurama's needs within their first few years of acquaintance - and with growth Kurama had made him his biggest ally in procuring a reference for his humanity. The sheer number of times Kurama had used the other man as an excuse for his whereabouts or odd behavior, as friends often did, was staggering. His mother, he was sure, was suspect of a secret relationship. If she hadn't been before, she certainly was after that last stunt he'd pulled.

Of course, he'd instructed his mother to kindly ask Kazuma to leave if he did it again.

Being his excuse for absenteeism, Kurama hadn't come up with another viable alternative for the black-written day. He'd taken in the news privately, avoided all contact with anyone who wasn't necessary, and talked around the phrase "busy" when confronted outright. He'd almost felt sorry for Kuwabara; the first conversation they'd had on the subject left him nothing but confused and the second ended similarly, just with a dash of frustration on both their parts. The final time he'd been less than delicate about the matter: Kuwabara's shocked face had grounded him long enough to realize that he had lashed out, and needed to excuse himself.

He'd thought himself unlikely to forget the hurt look on his friend's face so soon, but his own hurt overshadowed it exponentially.

Unconsciously and unwantedly, Kurama had built his identity around Yusuke. The him that existed before the detective fell into his life had been a neutral rendering; the feelings that he'd developed for humanity bewildering and changing, but only enough to affect his priorities, not him. Who

Kurama was, then and before, remained a mystery that he himself was blind to until Yusuke had brought the light. Nothing had been the same after that, and everything that he found different he also found to be for the better.

In the life he'd lived in Makai, wearing a different skin and with a different mind, Kurama had been perceived as cold and calculating. He'd been the angel of death to both friend and foe, the shadow in the dusk of tragedy, the triumphant king of goblin-eyed thieves. After loss and death and rebirth, he himself had forgotten that throughout all that time, he'd been a creature of emotion. He'd felt and hid, clay under a ceramic mask, soft and warm and cold as ice. Back then, he'd known that his feelings were the fuel for his brutality, and in them lay his mind's greatest asset as well as weakness. In Makai he'd held longing, he'd drowned in desire, and fed upon rage and happiness like only the commonly uncommon could.

Death had taken that from him - more precisely, he had taken it from himself with his choice to live - another act of selfishness. With the loss of his strength, all that remained was his mind: his organ of survival. Life and breath became his only priority, and with it the complex emotions of the greater beings was lost. As a human child, he was also animal: logic his weapon of accustom.

Otherwise, he'd have found his situation fascinating.

Otherwise, he'd not have been blindsided by the love of a mother.

Even not knowing the experience, the sheer estrangement he'd been overcome with at Shiori's protectiveness should have been a sign that things within him were not the same. After all, he'd known love in its different forms; this was certainly far from different. In Kurama's mind, this was epiphany: shouldn't he know more than what he had? What he felt? Why, of all things, was he conflicted over something he'd once experienced?

Shouldn't he be in mourning?

The years that followed were spent in deliberation: over love and feeling and the things he now lacked that he hadn't before. Excuses of human flesh over a demonic soul wore thin over time, as memories that contradicted the features which he thought defined these species made themselves known. His life in Makai had not been devoid of any of the things he missed now, simply governed differently. Human,demon: the greatest disparity came in structure. And in power.

Again, Yusuke contradicted this theory.

The boy's strength was not the first thing to capture Kurama's attention: that was his compassion.

He'd known the other was strong - he was Koenma's boy, after all - but what he hadn't counted on was his willingness to throw himself into harm's way for the sake of a stranger. Subjecting himself to the will of the Forlorn Hope held no logic and no benefit: but it did capture his attention. It wasn't long before Yusuke became the subject of his constant intrigue - his power far greater than even he knew while his emotions kept them in check - a human with the soul of a demon.

Like him, Yusuke was not of the world he was born into, but unlike him he was trying to carve out a place in it. Kurama had been aiming to survive, while Yusuke struggled uphill against a landslide just to live.

Even with the love he held for his mother and his plans to stay in Ningenkai, Kurama had always made a contingency for afterwards. His slow work to regain his power and control surpassed the short-term goals he'd set for himself: one day he would return to Makai. All of his human life would be nothing more than a dream, one in which his form and mind had changed, but faded away nonetheless. That had always been his goal: he'd just put it off after the incident when he was ten.

Yusuke had been a factor entirely unforeseen: one that had changed his mind without him even realizing it. The formation of the Tantei was, for him, punishment, but the more time he spent with Yusuke the more he found himself planning for human life in ways he had never considered.

Before long, before even a whisper Ankoku Bujutsukai had ever crossed the folds of his consciousness, Kurama found himself invested in a life that included Yusuke Urameshi.

A life that was now over.

A date set in black ink: that would be his downfall. Kurama had thought himself better than that, better than this, but here he was sitting in the dark in his apartment listening to the sounds of the rain as it mimicked his agony. They'd grown apart, he and the former spirit detective, and now Yusuke was embarking on an adventure he would not be a part of. His future was taken, stolen away by a human woman. Worse yet, Kurama even thought her worthy. This, he thought, was nothing short of despair.

The extreme numbness that he'd known when first taking the form of a human had decreased dramatically with the developments between him and his mother, and him and the Tantei. Since then, he'd come to know love again, to know pain and loss and humor and warmth, to know determination beyond the instinct to survive. He'd regained that part of himself, both human and not, and for the first time he deeply lamented this form of awareness. If this was the outcome, having experienced love seemed hardly worth it. No, not worth it at all.

He wouldn't go to the wedding; at the very least he'd spare himself that. Going would only either force the delicate state he was in to breakage or push him to do something he'd later regret.

Kurama knew better than to think himself able to cope in that situation: after the Makai tournament he'd been moments from moving in on the other's instability - inches- but had held back by no more than a thread. Something in him had known that the Mazoku would return to Ningenkai: and he had. He'd come back for Keiko.

Years had passed, their distance had grown; surely Kurama would not be missed and left to lick his wounds in private.

The wind seemed to disagree. It howled outside, rain pummelling his window with such force that it could have been mistaken for knocking. It was a moment before Kurama realized that it was happening, lifting himself from his misery just long enough to pull back the curtain and make sure that the tree outside was not scratching the pane with its branches.

He was met with the last thing he could have possibly imagined.

Two red eyes could be made out behind the fogging glass, their owner perched outside and soaking wet. The knocking sound stopped immediately: the cause suddenly clear. With a movement more reflexive than courteous, Kurama unhooked the latch and stood back as the window swung open, sending his curtains aflutter and letting the rain shower his carpet with its violent arrival. Dirty boots landed with a soft thud, and their owner pulled back the hood of his sopping wet cloak.

"Hiei."

With eyes narrowed and a look sharp enough to cut, Hiei sauntered into the living room as if he owned it and dropped the black bag he'd been carrying over his shoulder. All the while, his gaze did not leave Kurama's worn face.

"Where exactly does one get a suit?"

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	2. Chapter 2

_Yusuke_.

Kurama moved from dream to consciousness seamlessly, his awakening immediate and whole. The edge of his mind tingled with the sensation of familiarity, a feeling so long lost he'd forgotten it. It was a curious sort of thing, to know that this was something he'd experienced a hundred times before, to be able to recognize it by experience alone, and yet not to remember where it had begun. The end of it was something else, faded and dismal, underscored by a lack of caring that punctuated the current state of his life. This, though, this was something that pushed his brain into a state of awareness that he'd not experienced in far too long, and hated to admit that he'd missed.

He could not see him, he could not hear him, but Kurama could feel Hiei asleep in the next room.

He moved to dress as his mind wound to a start, replaying the moments of the evening before. Hiei climbing through his window was the furthest thing he'd considered happening, especially if the occurrence stemmed from what he suspected. His inquiry about wedding attire hadn't gone anywhere; in fact, neither of their questions seemed to meet with answers before shock and exhaustion led them to concede and prioritize sleep over inquisition. After all, it wasn't as if Kurama had any time lines to keep.

Body clothed and mind sharp, Kurama moved quietly through the apartment's main room and into the open kitchen. With false pretense of pouring himself some orange juice, Kurama watched from his vantage point the slow rise and fall of Hiei's chest, obscured somewhat beneath folds of black fabric. His outer cloak lay strewn messily over the back of a wooden dining chair, still wet from the night before's rain. Hiei himself was damp to look at, legs curled up ever so slightly and arms wrapped tightly around himself. His face was tucked into the couch's cushions, leaving Kurama his back. The positioning was something that caught Kurama's attention even the night before - the whole situation was a red flag, to be sure - with his choice in arrangements. To sleep, and sleep soundly, meant that Hiei was at least unconsciously comfortable enough to be in his presence. Consciously: well, he'd chosen his spot both outside of the other's bed and room. He was keeping his distance. And yet, he was still here.

Without missing a beat, Kurama took a pan off of it's hook on the wall and slammed it onto the range.

The bundle on the couch didn't stir, not even to tense up. Kurama's mood immediately fell; perhaps Hiei was not as comfortable as he was letting on. Sleep, then, had been something feigned since before he'd walked into the room, reasons for doing so only possibly being a lack of trust. It certainly was a better fit for where he expected the two of them stood, but left no hints as toward his modus operandi. If anything, it only managed to irk Kurama.

"Eggs?"

Hiei's shoulders slumped at the initiation, his avoidance thwarted. Slowly, in accordance with making the other wait, Hiei lifted himself from the cushions stiffly and turned his eyes toward the kitchen. They were cold, like Kurama remembered.

"I'm not hungry."

"Your loss, I suppose." Kurama let a half-smile slip as he dropped a chunk of butter onto the warming iron. "I'm quite a good cook."

"I know." The words came with no intonation, but intrigued Kurama nonetheless. Was this engagement, he wondered? If Hiei's appearance was out of character, his interest in participating in conversation - one that acknowledged any sort of shared history - certainly furthered his interest.

"Hmm," Kurama hummed, letting the gears in his head turn without interruption as he flipped the eggs in the pan. He let them sizzle for a moment, taking the time to warm some break, before plating the meal and moving over to the table in the common area. Hiei watched without moving, torn between looking too interested or entirely disinterested altogether. Not finding a place to settle as the other began to eat, he did not let the silence drag and cut to his intention.

"The wedding," Kurama had taken to reading the paper, seemingly forgetting his presence in the short stint of quiet. "Are you going?"

"Who knows," Kurama muttered under his breath, feeling bile wash over his tongue at the mere mention of it. It did not mix well with the contents of his cup. He paused, openly looking over the other before sighing and returning to his reading. Hiei had fought the urge to flinch at the look - he knew him well enough to tell still - but remained unmoved. "Did Kazuma send you?"

Even in his peripheral vision, Kurama could see the movement behind Hiei's eyes at the use of Kuwabara's first name. The air around him shifted immediately to uncomfortable, though if it was because he'd been seen through or the closeness that had just been exhibited, Kurama didn't know. Either way, it felt like a victory.

" I came of my own free will. That's what friends do for each other, in case you'd forgotten." Kurama couldn't help but chuckle, covering his mouth as he swallowed and piercing Hiei with a look that clearly said "hypocrite." Hiei did not share in his amusement. The two looked quite a pair: Hiei glaring daggers at the kitsune, who finished his meal looking nothing short of smugly jovial. Once done, Kurama leaned back in his chair, the hint of a smirk still on his lips: something Hiei knew as trouble.

"Why are you here, Hiei?" The fire demon ground his teeth, his face not changing its appearance but obviously deliberating. Barely an hour had passed with the two in the same room, and they had already reached the point of testing. Just like old times.

"I came to ask you a favor," Hiei broke eye contact for a moment to look around the room. "In addition to accommodation."

"A favor." It wasn't a question, just repetition. Hiei made a face, a quirk of his eyebrow, before shifting to reach down into his boot and pull out a slip of paper. He lifted it beside his head, a clear indication that he had no plans on moving from his spot. Kurama exhaled loudly, taking his plate in one hand and walking over to collect the paper in the other. He didn't look at it until the utensils were deposited in the sink.

"Measurements." Hiei elaborated, at the quizzical look the other planted him with.

"And you expect me to...?"

"Find me a suit." Kurama's face changed from curious to utterly not amused. "There's an appointment set up today."

Hiei watched as Kurama considered his request, glancing again at the paper in his hand. The hard edge around his cheekbones softened for a moment, his eyebrow raising at what he saw.

"Yours?"

"Whose else would they be?"

"They most certainly are not. Hiei, though you've grown since were were children, I'd hardly say you're 6'7". Someone's had you on." Hiei's face fell immediately, dark clouds forming behind his gaze. Kurama could have sworn he'd heard a quiet "Mukuro" whispered after his precursory "tch," but didn't comment on it. He'd have guessed the same either way. "And why is it that you can't make this appointment on your own time?"

"I have errands to run. Of a time sensitive nature." At this, Kurama took on a falsely cheery tone.

"Yukina?"

"That's none of your concern."

Again, ice. Kurama would've beamed at the harsh treatment he was receiving if it didn't have the potential to pull him out of his own plans. On the one hand, Hiei being here, speaking to him while clearly wanting nothing to do with him, was fascinating. On the other, he had better things to do: namely wallow. Accepting Hiei's request would be the same as putting aside his own feelings and showing his face in front of Yusuke and company, but refusing would certainly lead him to leave. Hiei gone was no different than usual: same old life and misery. Hiei here... Well that was a mystery far too good to pass up.

"We'll have to redo these," Kurama tapped the paper with his forefinger, a dangerous face covering his usual neutral visage. "If I go, that is."

Hiei's expression changed a number of times in the second that the phrase was said, moving from horrified to conflicted to wary. Kurama watched its progress carefully, hoping to understand just what exactly Hiei had hoped to accomplish in coming back. The slight, pulse-quickening panic that rolled off of the fire demon was enough proof in Kurama's mind that this situation was less one he'd wanted than before, but that only made him more curious. With where they'd left things, after all, he'd not expected to see Hiei in another century.

"What do you have to measure?" The voice that broke through his thoughts was gruff, but it was a concession. Kurama didn't let his expression change, just wandered over to the kitchen drawer and dug around for a moment for measuring tape and a pencil. Walking back to where Hiei sat, Kurama made a move that looked as if he were handing the tape to Hiei, but pulled back.

"Hiei, I can't take your measurements if you're sitting." With the face he was given, Kurama added. "You can't possibly do this on your own. Come on, up."

Red eyes widened before narrowing, hard and accusatory. There was a moment of stalemate before the look faded out into ... Nothing. Hiei stood, calm and composed, stripped himself of his inner cloak, and waited patiently for Kurama to start and finish. The difference between what had occurred and what he'd expected had been drastic, and so Kurama held back the smile that wanted to push past his lips in realizing that it only meant he'd have to push harder.

The tape measure moved around his chest, Kurama stepping into the space in front of him, inches apart. Hiei couldn't control the way he tensed up with the shortening distance as Kurama leaned in to read the number he'd come to and mark it down on the slip of paper. With a quick movement, the tape slid down Hiei's back to wrap tightly around his waist, pulling him forward a bit: closer to the kitsune. Though Kurama wasn't meeting his eyes, he was looking him over, gaze sliding up and down in between numbers. Kurama licked his lips, reveling in the way his presence had sent goosebumps down Hiei's exposed arms, before dropping to his knees.

Hiei had to fight the urge to kick as a hand slid up his inner leg, the measuring tape wrapped around his thigh. The extent to which his physical measurements would be needed was unknown to him so he allowed it, but for no longer than he had to. When Kurama moved to his other leg - confirming the measurement, no doubt - Hiei slipped away, moving himself several paces backward. Kurama noted the disturbed expression painting his face with a feeling akin to victory; this, it seemed, was a challenge he had won.

"That should be enough for the tailor." Hiei breathed, at somewhat of a loss for words. The next sentence he struggled to get out, caught up in the other's mischievous grin. "You can get yourself sized up while you're there."

"Would that make you happy, Hiei?"

If Kurama had been expecting a reply, he did not get one. Hiei had fled vis a vis the open window faster than words could have been formed, leaving the kitsune to ponder the task he'd just volunteered for.


	3. Chapter 3

To say that Hiei was fast would be an understatement of gross proportion. Hiei could outrun vision and lightning and rain clouds and sound. There were very few times, however, when Hiei felt such speed was warranted. This was one of those times.

scene cut

 _"I'm going to die, aren't I?" Hiei looks up, his chest tightening at the lonesome tone in the other's voice. Kurama is lying in bed, red and green twisting in an indistinguishable pattern across his chest and arms. There is a trail of dried blood leading away from the corner of his mouth; Hiei finds himself staring at it again after depositing him where he is now._

 _"You'll be fine. You said yourself that you could return the plant to seed." Kurama chuckles, followed with a wet cough. The vines protruding from his skin seem to lengthen with the break in concentration. Perhaps it is only Hiei's imagination._

 _"Not today. But I will die before this tournament is through." Hiei's palm stings: he realizes he's grasping his hand shut tightly. He's already witnessed Kurama on the brink of death; he doesn't want to again. "I need you to promise me something, Hiei. When I die-"_

 _"You won't die." He interrupts, his voice thicker than he'd intended. Kurama uses what little energy he has to turn his head, shooting him a tired but charming smile. "I won't let you."_

 _"I doubt you'll have a choice. I foresee trouble in our last match: for me in particular. My foe will not have me live; nor I, if I have to lose." Hiei watches his eyes glaze over: something he doesn't understand, and knows better than to want to, is passing through the kitsune's mind. "That's why I need you to promise me that you'll protect her."_

 _Hiei swallows, he's done with talk of death. Kurama continues, knowing he hasn't pushed far enough._

 _"I need you, Hiei." Hiei's heart tightens, damn the thing. He thinks it shows on his face, but can't be bothered enough to care when Kurama is looking at him like that. "You'll protect her like you protet Yukina. You'll become a part of her life and make sure she lives happy and fully until her end comes naturally."_

 _"What makes you think I'll agree?" Hiei says it, but knows that it would have been better if he hadn't. Kurama is staring him down with such softness that he can barely stand it, half a room away and much too far._

 _"Because she is my mother. And because keeping her alive is the closest thing to saving me."_

 _Hiei promises._

scene cut

A thousand fragmented questions passed through Hiei's mind as he ran, none sticking long enough for him to find answers. Things like why he was there, why he'd agreed, what had possessed him to think he could survive it: the best he could come up with while he reeled was stupidity. Idiocy had an aspect of convenience to it, one more acceptable than truth.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said he had an errand to run; though, the running had been intended as metaphorical. There were very few things that Hiei was willing to swallow his pride and run from, and even fewer that allowed him the experience of fear.

Nothing scared Hiei like Kurama did.

Coming back to Ningenkai had been a mistake; any doubts he'd held beforehand had faded out of existence. It hadn't even been a day and Kurama had managed to get inside his head: to pull out all his insecurities and wave them around like they were his playthings. Worse yet, he'd handed them to him. Hiei had been aware of the challenges returning would bring, and his inability to avoid them was nothing short of failure.

His heart didn't even beat the way Kurama's did. Why couldn't he manage just a little more control?

That answer, he knew. So did Kurama. Which was precisely the problem.

Had he been more naive, his current purpose would have been lucky happenstance after that incident. As difficult as it would be for him to ask, if things went as he expected, the consequences would be reasonable means of avoiding Kurama: during the wedding at least. His attendance was no longer an option; Hiei had returned, had asked a favor - one which he would owe him for - and had offered himself as entertainment. Kurama would go, if only to watch him suffer over it.

It hadn't been the plan he'd wanted, nor the one that was intended when he was first asked to come back, but it was the best he could do. Kurama's planned absence from Yusuke's wedding had placed a black cloud over the day. From what Hiei understood, there had even been talks of postponing it just until things could be sorted out, which would no doubt worsen the situation. Giddy with love himself, Yusuke remained entirely oblivious as to what crime he'd committed in the eyes of Kurama and would push him over the edge.

Which is where Hiei had been asked to step in: out of all the Tantei, he knew Kurama best, of course. They'd been the closest the longest, they'd been inseparable for most of their joint missions, etcetera etcetera. Yusuke was not the only one afflicted with blindness, Hiei had come to determine in listening to the pleas. No one else seemed to have noticed their break.

Sometimes, he wondered if Kurama had noticed.

scene cut

 _"For someone who claims not to like humans, you sneak through my window an awful lot, Hiei."_

 _Hiei doesn't respond right away, just sulks in the corner of the room at the fact that Kurama hasn't bothered to even glance his way while being snide. The urge to snap back at him is extraordinary, but he holds back. If he wants to play on Kurama's field, he knows that he has to do it his way. That means stopping and thinking before speaking when riled; the "otherwise" is what Kurama would want._

 _"You don't exactly qualify." He settles on, watching the other read with more interest in his face than he'd have wanted to admit to. "Or are you not who you claim to be, after all?" Kurama shrugs nonchalantly, a hand reaching back to twirl a bit of hair on his neck. Hiei wonders if the habit means he's planning on growing it out, or if he'd had long hair in the past._

 _"I'm both of those things." Kurama stops the movement, as if realizing an unconscious action, but isn't bothered by it. "And you know it. So why are you pushing me when I'm otherwise preoccupied?" Hiei grimaces; he doesn't like being told that a book is more important than conversing with him. He doesn't enjoy talking, outside of these moments of brevity._

 _"You're too cold." Kurama's eyes stop scanning the page. He doesn't move to look at Hiei, but Hiei knows he's listening. He elaborates, "To be human. You say you love the humans, that mother of yours, but I don't see it. All I see is a demon in stolen skin."_

 _No one speaks for a moment, Kurama just looking at his book and Hiei looking at Kurama. He wonders if he's said something that bothers the other, but then Kurama makes a noise like a sigh and his eyes are moving from right to left again. There's something close to a smile on his face, but it doesn't reach his ears._

 _"Is something I said untrue?"_

 _"No, you've come to an absolutely logical conclusion." Hiei doesn't know what to say to that, not expecting something that sounds like praise. "But you're wrong. Only by a technicality, if that makes you feel better."_

 _"A technicality." Kurama looks up at the dumbfounded tone Hiei's just used, making a conscious effort not to appear too smug. It doesn't work, in Hiei's opinion._

 _"We define human differently." Hiei is about to say something, but Kurama takes the lead. "You're speaking of a state of being, one which has nothing to do with species or priorities. As if good and evil can be defined. And I empathize with you, Hiei; it's been a long time since I was a proper child, but I do understand the need one has for boxes like that." Hiei makes a face, knowing he's just been insulted, but Kurama continues. "That, though, is not what makes me human; nor is it my inherent weakness. You could kill me right now, if you liked. But that doesn't mean anything either."_

 _There's a moment in which Kurama's face changes, as if he's considering not saying what comes next, but something about the way Hiei's looking at him changes his mind._

 _"The only reason that I am human," Kurama breathes, with soft eyes and the smile of a madman, "is because I believe I am."_

 _Hiei doesn't know it yet, but Kurama's greatest secret is held in that breath._

scene cut

"Are you attending the wedding?"

Hiei's comfort in the situation isn't helped any by the shocked and fumbling look on his sister's face, not to mention Genkai's background yelling - something along the lines of "...Don't show up for years and you can't even say hello? Little shit..." In fairness, he'd planned on something a little less direct, but the morning had left him flustered and he'd worried that any amount of stalling would lead him to back out. He hadn't even taken a moment to breath on the temple steps before accosting Yukina, catching her entirely off guard and causing her to drop her broom.

He didn't know why he thought she'd agree; clearly, she was terrified of him.

"To... Yusuke's wedding?" Hiei nodded, clamping his mouth firmly shut in case he said something horrible. High emotional pressure was not his area, and this certainly had his nerves on alert. "I am."

He could see it in the way her face changed: she was about to burst into a flurry of "where have you been?" and "it's so good you've come back." Before she had the chance he cut in, hoping that his anxiety was controlled enough not to make her pity him.

"Would you go with me?" Yukina only blinked, not having seen it coming. He'd known it would be the last thing she expected, but it hurt all the same.

"Yes!" She said, jumping a bit as the question truly sank in. "Of course, Hiei; I would be honored to go with you!" There wasn't time to avoid it - even for someone like him - when she stepped forward and took his hands in his, beaming up at him excitedly. "I'm so relieved; I was absolutely dreading going on my own. Will you really take me?"

Hiei just nodded numbly, far too overwhelmed for speech. This bit had been beyond what he'd planned for; the hope had been for either a yes, a no, or to chicken out quietly. Engaging in conversation is asking much more than that.

"Oh thank you!" Hiei tensed, afraid that she would hug him, but Yukina only squeezed his hand. The gentle look she was giving him said that she'd wanted to, but refrained knowing that it would make him uncomfortable. As relieved as he was, a part of him ached to have held her in his arms just once. Just as the thought crossed his mind, a small hand reached up to touch his cheek for a brief moment. "I'm so glad you're here, Hiei. We were all so worried that you wouldn't be able to make it. It's been so long since anyone has seen you." She pulled back, capturing his hand again. "We've all missed you, Hiei."

Though dull, a pain thudded in Hiei's chest. Half forced and half allowed, Hiei made an effort to smile back at his twin. Without any other option, he followed her inside the temple walls, and wished that what she said was true.


	4. Chapter 4

_"You already have your fox, your clown, and your hag. I'm a moot point."_

 _Kuwabara's face turns red, anger rising. He doesn't seem to notice that Hiei isn't even looking at him, rather past him._

 _"You just gonna walk away?" Hiei turns his attention to the redhead, knowing that his gaze is wasted where it was._

 _"This is your world to look after, not mine. I don't intend to hinder your cause, but I'm not going to help it, either." He can feel the almost-snicker that comes from behind the other, the same sort of annoyed amusement that he's sick of being on the receiving end of._

 _"Coward! Real men help when they're needed!"_

 _"Save that idealism for your fairy tales."_

 _He knows he's a hypocrite, but taking it out on Kuwabara is easier than admitting it._

 _In this moment, leaving is the most difficult thing Hiei thinks he's ever done. Whether or not he wants it to be so, Ningenkai has become a second home to him. With it in danger, with his friends and family in danger, there's nothing he'd rather do than to stay: even if that means putting up with the oaf._

 _Leaving, though, is how he proves to himself that his presence no longer makes any difference. He won't be missed, and now he has to confront that._

 _The second he's out of sight, Hiei masks his energy. His plan is to stay close, to observe, to watch just how unwanted he is with his own eyes. Being sensed would counteract that purpose, and he needs to know. He needs to know if he's at all important, if he should save one shred of the idealism that he's just berated Kuwabara for. A year ago, he'd been so stuck in that hopefulness that he'd not seen this coming. That level of infatuation disgusted him to remember: but only because he still craved it._

 _The house of psychics had been nothing short of a cry for attention, a plea to be considered and taken seriously. Outside of a single warning about losing his soul, he'd been ignored. No amount of acting out would get Kurama's attention. There was no point: he was too focused on Yusuke. Why that hurt Hiei now of all times was unknown. Kurama had always been preoccupied with Yusuke. Hiei just took up the space in between._

 _Days go by, and Hiei watches. He waits, for a chance in a million that the other might think on him, but it doesn't come._

 _He has his answer._

scene cut

"Was it good for you?"

Hiei had only just closed the window behind him when a musical voice floated from the bedroom, halting him as his hand pulled away from the latch. He'd been meticulous in planning his return; even being an hour late, there was still time between then and when the fitting was supposed to end. For Kurama to be back either meant that he'd not gone to begin with, or had chosen not to stay for some reason. Either case was likely not good.

"What?" Hiei's voice was flat; as if he'd spoken only because not doing so would have led to worse things. Kurama was lying on his bed, shoes on and hanging down the side of the mattress, as if he'd just flopped backwards and refused to move.

"Your errand." Kurama lifted his head, meeting the other with a smile too bright to be genuine. "Was it a good one?"

"Yes." There was a dangerous edge to Hiei's voice, but it was nothing like Kurama. Hiei had only ever seen him take on that attitude when he'd insinuated something drastically offensive by mistake, and it had taken weeks of work on his part to repair the break between them. This, just from the look of him, felt much worse.

"My day was lovely, thank you for asking," Kurama said so sweetly that another would be convinced that they'd actually asked. He waved a hand toward his closet without much care. "Spoils of my efforts."

Hanging from the back of the door was a garment bag, which Hiei could only assume contained a tux. A flicker of something crossed his face: something Kurama interpreted as relief and distress. Such complex feelings, Hiei could have.

"Where's mine?" A sly smile protruded from an otherwise kind face.

"With Kazuma. He's having it hemmed." That, Kurama counted, was the second time he'd mentioned Kuwabara by first name, and the second time he'd gotten a reaction out of Hiei. Still, something was lacking. "Yusuke hit me."

For a second, Hiei just stood there in the doorway looking completely blank.

"He... What?"

"He hit me," Kurama continued nonchalantly, sitting up on his bed and slipping off his shoes so that he could cross his legs under him. The shoes fell to the floor haphazardly, another bad omen. "Apparently, I've been an ass."

Again, Hiei just stared, clearly not sure where the other was going with this. Kurama only smiled.

"What do you think, Hiei?" It was a trap. Both of them knew it, and neither of them acknowledged it.

"I think you're going to the wedding. That's all that matters."

Something in Kurama's eyes changed then: a darkening around the edges. Like a surge in power, Hiei was hit with a wave of feeling that Kurama had been holding back, just waiting to unleash onto the world. He'd gone to the fitting, played his part, and was now ready to lash out because of it.

"I think you're wrong, Hiei. I think what 'matters' is what you're getting out of being here." Confusion was the first thing he was met with, followed by anger to match his companion's. With little thought to what he was doing, Hiei suddenly found himself on the defensive.

"What I get out of this? Enlighten me, Kurama, to how I could achieve any enjoyment in sharing your presence again." A cruel smirk appeared on Kurama's lips, sharp as the narrowing of his eyes.

"You get to watch," he said, his voice lower than it had been moments before, "as I suffer the way you have for years."

Hiei stood shocked, one foot in the door of the bedroom and the other on the cusp of taking flight.

"After everything, how could you think that I enjoy watching you suffer?" It was no more than a whisper, the fire demon's eyes downcast. Kurama studied him with intimidating scrutiny, seemed dissatisfied with the response he'd been given.

"Come now, Hiei. I can tell when you like something." He paused, then, as if it were an afterthought. "It's not as if we've never kissed."

The storm of emotions that crossed Hiei's face was proof enough that what little control he had was slipping. Had circumstances been different, that expressiveness would have amused Kurama. It was only because his own hold on self-control was so thin that it did not.

"It can't be helped if you confuse hate with love." Hiei spat. "For the record, I despise you."

"...What's that quote? The one about protesting too much? Are you really intending to deny it, after all this time?"

"No." Hiei bit his inner lip, unsure why he was still a part of this conversation and not halfway back to Makai by now. The answer, they both knew, was Yusuke.

"You came back."

"I came back because you were about to throw away the most important friendship you've had!" He'd shouted: one of the reactions he'd been trying to hold back. It didn't matter; Kurama was so far past the point of control to care. "This is about more than you, Kurama. You're hurting him."

"Most important, hm?" he mused, completely ignoring the latter half of Hiei's statement. "That's not what I meant. When Sensui was close to opening the portal to demon world, you came back." Hiei had been about to ask what on earth the other was talking about when it occurred to him that Kurama had misunderstood.

"Do you think you're the only one who holds my affections?" Kurama calmed, the heat in his face turning cold. The look Hiei was giving him was one he knew all too well; angry and superior, with knowledge that he was about to share. "I've been watching you watch Yusuke for so long; did you not expect me to look at him, too? You grew tired of me and abandoned me for him. Sooner or later I was bound to see what you see in him. That's why I came back; not for some illusion that you'd want me. Don't forget: I left again, after that."

Even with his ability to hide his feelings, Hiei could see that Kurama had not been expecting that. He witnessed the moment when his last shred of control slipped, the anger and upset all rising to the surface from its underhanded home.

Kurama's faulty mask crumbled, and he came entirely undone.

"You've planned this!" Kurama hissed, on the edge of hysterics. "You've just been waiting for the day when Yusuke's taken away from me so you can make your move. Is this the part where you swoop in and offer me comfort, Hiei? Is this where you become my savior?" He laughed, bile coating each of the words as they left his mouth.

"There's no move being made." Hiei's voice was eerily calm, as if he'd been preparing for this moment since before he'd returned. How the tables had turned, since their conversation had begun. "You already know, Kurama, that I love you. What you don't seem to understand is that I'd rather live the rest of my life without you than be with a half hearted version of you." His fist clenched at his side, something that almost escaped Kurama's attention. "I know that you don't love me back. That doesn't matter anymore. What does matter is that I've gone my whole life without being loved, and I will not stay with someone who can't change that."

The next move was made out of spite, and temporary insanity.

To say that it was a kiss would imply that it was mutual, not the result of two faces colliding after one pushed the other into a wall. The worst part about it was the familiarity, the way it struck memories from a foreign hotel room on an island far, far away. Hiei's body pushed back, but his mind couldn't help but associate that feeling of lips against skin with the hope he'd had back then, and the longing that he'd thought would soon be over. As Kurama kissed him, he fought the urge to kiss back.

"What if I told you I love you," Kurama whispered, using one hand to pin Hiei against the wall and the other to stroke his cheek. "What if I told you it every night while I held you." His nose trailed up to Hiei's ear, and he bit the flesh beneath it harshly. "What if someday, maybe I'd mean it?"

Hiei was gone just a second, Kurama calculated, after his heart broke.


	5. Chapter 5

Needless to say, this is not where Kurama thought he'd be.

The best contenders for where he'd be Yusuke's wedding day had either been the church itself, or as far away from the church as was humanly possible. Stalking just outside the church, tux disguised by out of fashion bomber jacket, had not been something he'd anticipated. This is what Kurama called a no-win situation: going in wouldn't do any good, and neither would going anywhere else.

From where he stood, it was quite the predicament.

Spending the last few days alone had been an opportunity for Kurama to think and consider what he wanted out of the wedding. Yusuke not getting married wasn't it - even if he loved him, he wished him happiness. That was the problem, he supposed; the last thing he wanted was Yusuke to be miserable, so h'd found a way to make everyone else suffer. It had been a rude awakening when he'd called Kuwabara and been ignored the first time, hung up on the second. If even Kazuma was upset with him, maybe it was time to consider he'd done something wrong.

Or, at least, admit it to himself.

Kurama's relationship with Hiei had always been turbulent at best; when they weren't at each other's throats, they had each other's backs. No one could move in sync like they could, not even the former spirit detective, and no one knew him well enough to call him on his insecurities. That, he thought, was where the first signs of contention had grown. All the way back in the days before he'd' grown his hair out and knew any other special humans, Hiei had been pushing him.

Back before Yusuke had Kurama thinking about his humanity, Hiei had been questioning it.

Loving Yusuke had been like second nature to Kurama, but challenging Hiei had been like breathing. Every time he pushed, Kurama pushed back harder and harder until he'd come to the point of breaking. This last incident had not been their first; Hiei had left before, but only because Kurama had driven him away.

Despite having bonded with Kuwabara, Kurama was not close with anyone. The few who knew his identity did not really know much more about him than that; all other information was kept at arm's length, just as Kurama liked it. The one exception to that had always been Hiei. This, perhaps, was his punishment: for trying so hard, for loving him.

It dawned on him when sitting alone, after the dial tone had long signaled that Kuwabara was through with his petty behaviour, that no one made him act the way Hiei did. Even claiming to love Yusuke - and truly doing so - he'd only ever acted drastically when he'd thought the boy had died. Hiei brought out something different in him: something fiery and raw, something alive. The times he was most emotional always included Hiei - the happiest and the hardest - and faded out of existence when he wasn't around. Like his childhood, the numbness had come back after Hiei had run off to Makai with a masked king and a purpose outside of Kurama. He'd always blamed Yomi for his change and cold demeanor, but in retrospect that seemed less and less the case.

Perhaps, he'd come to the conclusion, Hiei was more important to him than he'd realized.

And so, Kurama stood outside the church, wondering what he really felt about attending the wedding of his first love, and curious as to whether or not the one hiding from him inside would be his second.

scene cut

"I, uh... I'm sorry."

Hiei turned to look at the voice's owner, a perturbed but curious look on his face. Kuwabara just stood there sheepishly, pretending to look away because Hiei was dressing, but really doing so from his own embarrassment.

"I didn't want to get you all involved in this thing. It wasn't right of me to make you do that." Kuwabara glanced up determinedly. "I'm sorry."

Fabric slid against fabric as Hiei pulled his tie around his collar, fiddling it into position.

"Hnn. As if you could make me do anything." Kuwabara didn't say anything, just smiled sadly in response. As normal as Hiei had been trying to be for the past few days, Kuwabara knew that he'd made a mistake in asking him when he'd shown up on his doorstep. If Hiei had preferred his company over Kurama's, something had gone very wrong: and then had come the calls.

"Hey, I'm being all sincere here." Kuwabara tried to say lightly, but it came out flat. "I know what he meant to you and all-"

"Don't." Hiei cut him off, putting a hand on the other's arm. Kuwabara reeled at the contact for a moment, shocked that Hiei would make such a gesture. Then, the fire demon was gone, off into the main hall to find his date.

A mere two and a half hours before, Yusuke Urameshi was married.

The reception was held in a banquet hall just next to the church; string lights glowing both outside and in. Keiko had taken the reprieve as an opportunity to change out of her wedding dress - her mother's, handed down - into something more comfortable, and more importantly, more to her tastes. Yusuke didn't pass up that chance to drink with his groomsmen - Chuu had brought some killer ale from some backwater of Makai - leaving him happy and tipsy by the time she returned. He missed her mouth when feeding her cake - he claimed it was the booze, but she knew that he'd just wanted to get it on her nose - and laughed heartily when she stomped on his foot for it. Music played and people were merry: even if not all of them were people.

The first dance was held to a song that Hiei had never heard before, something slow and nostalgic, and Keiko's father cried. Yusuke cut in near the end to claim to floor with his wife, and the smile that it put on Keiko's face was enough to lighten even his mood. The wedding had gone without a hitch - not counting an earlier crisis with the rings, as was expected of Yusuke - and it seemed as if everything was likely to be fine.

That is, until Yukina asked Hiei to dance.

Like all things with her, Hiei found it impossible to refuse his sister. His nervousness wasn't half her excitement, which proved to be an ample distraction from the proper footwork and swaying that he'd never attempted in his life. Yukina giggled giddily when he spun her in a circle, apologizing while laughing when she stepped on his toes. Embarrassed, she admitted to not knowing a single song, but sang along as if she knew all the words, making them up as she went along. In all of his years watching, Hiei could not remember seeing her this happy a single time, and indulged his stone heart by allowing himself a genuine smile when she beamed up at him. Not even a seething Kuwabara across the room could have made him more content than he was in that moment, and more grateful to have endured enough to come.

As a slower song came on and Yukina leaned against his shoulder, humming along. Hiei let her, albeit stiffly, rubbing her back gently instead of holding her by the waist. Tiredly, he wondered how he'd ever gotten himself into a position like this, and what he could do to make it continue. Yusuke and the gang were all too preoccupied in their own happiness to bother with teasing him over his.

"Excuse me, may I cut in?"

Hiei's grip around Yukina tightened protectively, his head turning to the side in pained disbelief. Kurama stood, molded into the perfectly cut tux, in the middle of the dance floor. Cleaned up and polished, he looked nothing like the shadow a man Hiei had walked in on days before. His eyes were no longer red from crying, instead bright and ... Something else. Something hid behind green irises that was capturing, like a soul awakened after a long absence. Anyone would have been caught up and swept away by him; certainly Hiei could not be to blame for that.

Yukina looked round and Hiei's arms became lax, letting her slip from his grip. The sudden lack of heat left him feeling cold and empty, as if a piece of himself had just been forcibly removed. With a curt nod, he let her go, scrutinizing Kurama as she crossed the distance between them and reached to take his hand. Whatever games he had in mind, Hiei was through with it.

"I'm sorry, Yukina," Kurama said smoothly, not taking his eyes off the ones staring him down harshly. "I'm afraid it was not you I'm looking to steal."

The steps that separated them seemed to resonate more loudly than the music, punctuating the movement as Kurama walked past the aqua-haired girl and entered into Hiei's space. The spiraling couples around them stilled in their sight, no more than ambient figures in disconnected space, illusions of light and form. The only real things, as Kurama reached out with his hand palm-up, were the two of them.

"Hiei." Kurama spoke, his voice sounding foreign with a hint of anxiety. "May I have this dance?"

Somewhere, in the periphery of his mind, Hiei could see Kuwabara moving toward them to intervene. Yusuke had stopped dancing with Keiko :at first to scold the kitsune but then to watch. Yukina covered her mouth with her hands, looking scared and hopeful all at once. But all that registered was Kurama's hand, and the way, ever so slightly, it was shaking.

Not knowing why - after everything that had passed - but wanting to know, Hiei stepped into his hold.

There was a moment in which the two settled into positions when the music picked up, having stopped with everyone else. Most of the pairs on the floor began shuffling about, trying to regain their rhythm now that there was something to dance to again. Keiko was dragging Yusuke back to their spot, saying something about not bothering them just yet. All the while, Hiei looked at the hand in his, and Kurama looked at him.

"Does this mean something? That you're doing this in front of everyone?" For the first time in their long partnership, Kurama thought Hiei sounded vulnerable. It made something in his chest hurt, to realize that he had forced him to that point.

"I don't know." Kurama sighed, squeezing Hiei's left hand with his right. "But I think it might. And I think it could mean more, if it continues."

Hiei met his eyes, accusatory, but he didn't let go. The song was slow, but not so much that their physical distance was strange. In fact, Hiei could feel the warmth from the other's body between their chests.

"I won't stay with you if nothing changes." Kurama smiled, a knowing look on his face.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to." Hiei resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but Kurama could tell. Leaning down just a tad, Kurama closed a few inches between their faces. "You've changed me before, Hiei. I trust that you'll do it again."

Hiei didn't ask for elucidation, just sounded a "Hn," and averted his face. He felt Kurama relax a bit, the tenseness flowing from his arms as they danced, content in that he had not yet left. Night fell slowly, the uncommon pair keeping their pace throughout the mix of songs and company, forgetting the world and the past for a night in which they had a future to look toward, and a life waiting for when they reentered the world.

* * *

Thank you all for reading! Leave me nice words! And PLEASE check out the art for this fic by galen-kun, and the rest of the people who participated in the YYHBB (tagged yyhbb on tumblr!)


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